


this bright light city is gonna set my soul on fire

by zanthetran



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Crack, F/F, Las Vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthetran/pseuds/zanthetran
Summary: The camera clicks and Yaz moves back, dropping her hand from the Doctor’s throat. “Have you ever ridden a horse?" she asks, pulling the Doctor close before dropping to one knee.The Doctors face brightens like she’s happy to finally know the answer to a question. “Yes! I have, actually. Were a man then, so it might be a bit different in this body but —“Yaz hooks her fingers in the belt loops of her culottes. "How about a bull?" She interrupts, pulling down hard. The Doctor’s knees buckle, and then she’s straddling Yaz’s knee, mouth moving like a fish out of water as her words falter.ORyou know those pictures you can get with chippendales in vegas? yeah, this is that.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	this bright light city is gonna set my soul on fire

**Author's Note:**

> ………….im not responsible for this fic, at all. also I may or may not have actually gotten these pictures myself. they really do say this shit yall.

She likes the job, generally. It’s really not that bad — well, except for the gross men that touch her a little too much to be considered friendly or professional. Other than that it’s kind of fun, and you’d be surprised how many women hear her accent and look like they fall head over heels in love.

“Did you find those handcuffs yet?” Ryan asks from the counter at the back of the tent. He clicks at something on the screen and starts typing.

“Still lookin’,” Yaz says, bent over the large box and digging around for said handcuffs. She pushes a police baton and vest to the side, and she sees everything else for the police uniform in there except for the handcuffs.

“Think they were in the blue one,” Ryan adds.

Yaz straightens back up and starts for the blue tote next to it, pulling off the lid and setting it to the side before digging in again.

“Hi, excuse me,” a soft voice says behind her — a _British_ voice, she notes. “Have you seen — well I don’t want to say flying pig, because that’s not what it is, but —“ the woman stops talking when Yaz straightens up, facing her. Her cheeks flush and her eyes shoot up from where they had previously been staring at her abs on display where the cropped shirt cuts off.

Yaz furrows her brows and quirks a smile. “You need help with something?” she asks, because this woman does _not_ look like the type that usually frequents the tent — drunk groups of women and gross men that smell like beer and cigarettes are usually the crowd she gets, not short blonde’s in a _coat_ in September, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. In her hand she holds a long metal tube thing with an orange light on the end. “You bring your own props?”

“Props?”

Yaz chuckles and nods to the device in her hand, waving Ryan over as she moves to the backdrop. “You want pictures? We have a special goin’ on — 4 for $45, $15 individual.”

The woman looks around the tent like she’s just remembered where she was. “Pictures?”

“Yeah, pictures. You _do_ know where you are, right?” Yaz asks. She puts the light stand down and stops, turning back to the blonde. She’s starting to think this woman is sick or something.

“Las Vegas, Nevada. Pretty sure 21st century but —“ she stops and sniffs the air. “2020?”

Yaz looks to Ryan who just raises his eyebrows and shrugs, the _‘she’s mad’_ unsaid.

“Right, so, pictures? Do you want them?”

The woman waits a beat, then shrugs. “Why not. What kind of pictures do you take here…” the Doctor trails off, looking to the front of her shirt for a name tag of some sort, probably (or she’s just blatantly staring at Yaz’s tits, could be that too).

Yaz sticks out her hand. “Yasmin Khan, friends call me Yaz,” she says. She doesn’t usually give her name to clients but this woman seems different, somehow.

She takes Yaz’s hand in her own, her skin cool to the touch. “Nice to meet you, Yasmin Khan. I’m the Doctor.”

“You’re a doctor?” Yaz asks, a bit impressed. Not that women can’t be doctors, obviously, just — she doesn’t seem the type.

The Doctor waves a hand. “Sort of. Just a day job.”

Yaz approaches her and the flush that had gone from her cheeks comes back when Yaz holds onto the sides of her coat. “A day job?” she asks nonchalantly, tugging on the material. The Doctor lets her push it over her shoulders, leaving her in the blue culottes, a black shirt, and mustard yellow braces. The white sleeves of an undershirt come to the middle of her forearms. Yaz tosses the coat to a chair off to the side of the tent and pulls the Doctor by the hand towards the center of the backdrop.

“Sort of,” the Doctor says, slight hitch to her voice.

“Right,” Yaz says, moving past the small talk easily. She’s still got a job to do. “Would you like the pictures naughty or extra naughty?” The words come off her tongue so easy and rehearsed she barely thinks about it at this point.

The Doctor’s face drops and her mouth gapes open and closed for a few seconds before Yaz takes pity on her. “Sorry, have to ask that.”

“Ready to go, Yaz,” Ryan says from behind the camera setup. He leans around and sticks his hand out to the Doctor. “‘m Ryan. Don’t worry, Yaz’ll take it easy on you, won’t you, Yaz?” he asks her.

“Definitely,” Yaz says to Ryan, moving the Doctor into the first pose. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a good girl.” She takes the Doctor’s hand and shoves it into the back pocket of her jean shorts, pulling her close by a brace. “Be a dear and squeeze,” she says before pulling their bodies flush together, tilting her head back and letting her mouth fall open. Honestly, the lines they’re told to say to these people are downright filthy but it has the desired affect when the Doctor sucks in a sharp breath, hazel eyes trained on Yaz’s face.

The camera shutter clicks and lights flash around them and Yaz immediately pulls away to move them to the next pose. It’s automatic at this point — pose, click, pose, click, pose, click. She’d probably be able to do it in her sleep.

Yaz takes two steps forward, nudging the Doctor back against the small table set up. She quickly takes off the cowboy hat she’s wearing and settles it atop the Doctor’s blonde head, then grabs her thigh and wraps it around her waist.

“Sorry, my coworker called out sick today. We’re gonna have to improvise,” Yaz explains. She leans over the Doctor until their faces are inches apart, one hand moving to her throat. The Doctor’s eyes widen as she looks up at Yaz, mouth open slightly — and usually people laugh and blush and look at the camera for these photos but the Doctor hasn’t taken her eyes off Yaz once and she’s not finding it in herself to be upset about it.

The camera clicks and Yaz moves back, dropping her hand from the Doctor’s throat. “Have you ever ridden a horse?" she asks, pulling the Doctor close before dropping to one knee.

The Doctors face brightens like she’s happy to finally know the answer to a question. “Yes! I have, actually. Were a man then, so it might be a bit different in this body but —“

Yaz hooks her fingers in the belt loops of her culottes. "How about a bull?" She interrupts, pulling down hard. The Doctor’s knees buckle, and then she’s straddling Yaz’s knee, mouth moving like a fish out of water as her words falter.

The camera clicks and Yaz nudges the Doctor to stand before standing up herself. By muscle memory alone, Yaz spins the Doctor around and places one hand firm between her shoulder blades, pushing her down against the wood. When she’s bent over (not without yelling, “Oi!” at the manhandling) Yaz grabs a fistful of her hair, flexing her other arm and smiling bright at the camera, the front of her shorts pressed against the Doctor’s ass.

The camera clicks. Yaz lets go of her hair and steps back respectfully, waiting for the Doctor to straighten up. She does and when she turns back around she’s flushed bright red. Ryan laughs and holds out the camera for Yaz to look at the screen where the last picture is pulled up. The Doctor looks shocked, to say the least — hands splayed out on the wood and mouth open in surprise. Yaz chuckles and nods towards the counter. “You can pay over there. Ryan will print your pictures.”

The Doctor follows her to the back of the tent where Ryan lays out 4 glossy 8x10 inch pictures. The Doctor is staring at Yaz in every single one (save for the last) and looks increasingly flustered as they go on.

There’s a short silence then the Doctor starts. “Oh! Money!” she says like she’s just realized why they’re there. She reaches into her pants pockets and digs around far too long before coming out empty, then reaches into her coat pocket. She pulls out a few bills after a few awkward seconds and hands them to Ryan who hands her the pictures, then she turns and leaves with one last lingering look towards Yaz.

Yaz debates with herself for all of thirty seconds before she grabs one of the business cards and scribbles down a number on the back, running towards the front of the tent to catch the Doctor before she leaves. “Oi! Madam!”

The Doctor turns, looking a little dazed and more than a little confused.

Yaz hands her the card and takes a step back, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Good luck with your flying pig. Next time you’re round let me know.”

The Doctor slowly grins, pulling that metal tube out of her pocket again and taking a step away as well. “Most definitely will, Yasmin Khan,” she says before turning on her heel and moving through the crowd quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> ok send thots @zanthetran on tumblr <3


End file.
